Page 33 of His Grace, the Duke
“Don’t walk away from me.” He knew exactly what to say to rattle her cage. He lowered his lips to her ear and rasped, “I have not dismissed you yet.”
She sucked in a breath, righteous anger flashing across her face. “You’re being a brute!”
He smirked, still holding tight to her arm. “If you’re going to be difficult, two can play your game.”
“I’mbeing difficult?”
“Yes! You are one of the most difficult, obstinate, infuriating women I’ve ever met. You swan through life with all the grace of a hurricane, leaving devastation in your wake—”
She scoffed, her cheeks blazing pink. “Comparing me to a swan? Heavens, that is quite the denouncement coming from you—”
“Don’t make jokes,” he snapped. “I can’t stand them.”
“Youlovejokes,” she countered. “You live for them. You and Burke exchange ten a day. You just don’t like being the target,my lord.”
“Goddamnit.” He boxed her in with both hands, pressing them against the cool stone wall. He lowered his face inches from hers, that spicy floral scent making him weak. “I will rage if you call me that again,” he said, voice hoarse.
They stood like that for a moment, foreheads almost touching, mouths inches apart, breathing the same air. He watched the rapid rise and fall of her chest, knowing his was doing the very same. This close, he could trace with his eyes the gentle curves of the tops of her breasts as they disappeared into her dress. He tried to look away. Hehadto look away. This was impossible. Intolerable.
Don’t do this.
His breathing became ragged as he felt himself pulled to her, leaning closer.
Do not break.
She tipped her chip up. Was she daring him to kiss her?
Or simply refusing to back down? Or both?
Let her go.
He groaned, his elbows going slack, dropping an inch closer.
He was going to break.
She sucked in a sharp breath, shifting away. “What else can I call you?” she asked, not meeting his gaze. “What are we to each other but master and servant? I will not raise the suspicion of this house by being overly familiar with you. That will serve neither you nor I.”
“A compromise, then,” he muttered.
She huffed a little laugh. “What possible compromise can there be?”
He pointed down the stairs at the closed door. “Out there, I will be the viscount and you will be Miss Harrow. I will swallow my irritation when you dismiss me with each cold utterance of ‘my lord’... but you must stop looking at me like that.”
She blinked, lips parting again. He hated when her mouth did that. Damn, he loved it... and he hated it. “Like what?” she whispered.
He raised a hand, ghosting his fingers over her lips. “Like I mean something to you.”
Her breath left her in a rush. He felt the warmth of it against his fingers. “James—”
“Outside this stairwell, we shall play our roles.”
She still held his gaze, those dark eyes searching his. “And... in here?”
A long moment stretched between them. Neither of them moved. Neither of them breathed. Then James broke. He dropped his forehead to hers, letting himself shift his hands to her shoulders. She didn’t stiffen under his touch, thank God. She let him sink into her, keeping her chin tipped up so their foreheads could stay pressed together.
Her lips were so close... he could kiss her. He couldclaimher. Taste her like he did in the library. Nothing sweeter. Such a forbidden fruit.
But that’s not what he needed from her now. Surprising himself, he pulled her from the wall, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, tucking her head under his chin. She didn’t hesitate, bringing her arms around his waist. He couldn’t remember the last time he held someone or let himself be held.
